Spare Me

I meant to carry on a tradition of blogging, even if it was short, every night at some point, but man oh man if there wasn't one hell of a storm blazing last night. I haven't seen the sky lit up like that in ages, and in the time it took me to jump out of my car and dash the half block to my front door I walked into the house completely soaked. Then I had to run around and check all of the windows because of course we'd left a bunch of them open - honest to Pete this place has 19 operating windows and we had at least half of them open- before the house started getting pummeled by HAIL. Atticus was looking a little distressed (I later found out it was just because she was hungry) but Matisse remained completely nonplussed. Anyway, it didn't seem like a wise idea to sit in front of three windows at a laptop, even for a few minutes, last night.

And speaking of last night, it was fun, for the most part. A bunch of us went to Bluemound Bowl and though Pizza was told that they had open bowl until 2am, when we got there at 8 there were two parties going on so we just all sat around in the bar until 9:30. At first we just kind of stared at each other and then I got really nervous because Pizza had to borrow my car (he'd driven with Chris and I) because there was some kind of small emergency at the Times he had to deal with, so I realized that I pretty much had to engage everyone in conversation - not a completely easy task for me. To top it off, I think that one person was morose and withdrawn because she is having issues finding a job in her field, her boyfriend is normally pretty quiet, but I don't think he wanted to be all effervescent, in support of her feelings, and my other friend was clearly not too happy (understandably) because she had driven a decent distance and now was not going to be getting any bowling action because she had to leave early. So that left Chris and I, which meant that left me with trying to keep the conversation rolling, which I find completely exhausting sometimes. To top it off, Dave didn't show up, so that didn't all come off like I had hoped either.

But, Pizza got back, Jeanne left, and everyone bowled. Mostly shitty bowling, but bowling. I of course fed the jukebox with awesome music but I sometimes felt like my attempts to keep things light were appearing a little shrill perhaps, so who knows. Anyway, Pizza and I got together this morning and he was like, "What did you think about last night?" and after we had pretty much the same discussion as I wrote in the above paragraph, we both definitely hope that the next foray will have a bit, shall we say, more levity. Hell, I'm happy just doing my own thing so I don't feel like I should have to work at it this much for everyone else's benefit...haha.

Anyway, that was the night. I'm looking forward to getting a couple of things accomplished this weekend, I just hope that it doesn't continue to be this muggy or we'll have to fast track the purchase of some fans. I can't have a beverage on the table without it completely sweating out within 30 seconds.

I am also really curious about our upstairs neighbors. They have two kids that are probably under the age of 10 but they sound like they weigh 400 pounds when they walk or run on the floor above us. And every time I come home there's a new piece of debris on the porch to push aside with my foot, and it all just collects on our supposed "communal" space. This is the space that they are actively shoving me out of somehow, even though I just have a tiny gold urn that I inherited from the previous tenant where I deposit cigarette butts, and a space as wide as my butt on the stone ledge where I sit before I deposit said cigarette butts . Somehow they've passively begun to put the kid's bikes "just close enough" to the pillar so I can't sit there without moving them, and this plastic snow shovel kept appearing in front of the urn. A shovel in June - uh huh. Chris has been having fun playing "passive-aggressive hide and seek of the urn" with them, but it's all just weird.

I just want them to fix my fucking dishwasher already and they never need to hear from me again.